Smooth Criminal: AJ/Amanda

[A. J. Lefabre]

After moving in to his loft apartment three years ago, the first purchase A.J. Lefabre made was a ladder. It was a ladder he would need to get up and out of the old warehouse skylight that stretched across the ceiling. That was, at least, until he could get something more practical build. More practical came rather quickly when he and his band-mates spent a weekend constructing a wooden, L-shaped staircase that led up to the skylight and gave A.J. easy access to the roof. It also, as luck would have it, served the double-purpose of dividing up his open-layout loft by separating the kitchen and dining area from his bedroom and living area.

The roof had become A.J.'s personal open-air retreat where he would take his violin and escape into the music. It was there that he stood, now, with the asphalt warm on his bare feet. Dressed in a pair of jeans and white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the front open and his long, curly hair pulled back into a man bun, he held his classical violin to his chest with his chin and bowed. The haunting melody of Evanescence's "My Immortal" reverberated off the strings while a piano accompaniment that he'd recorded the previous night played out from an MP3 player and a set of portable speakers that were set on the roof a few feet away.

[Amanda St. Croix]

For the past 6 months since Amanda has moved into her building, she would randomly be serenaded with the most beautiful music but she was never able to figure out where it was coming from. it just so happened that on this day, she had climbed the stairs to the rooftop patio to work on the playlist for her radio show, having decided the day was perfect to get a little sun and get some work done as well.

she sat curled up on the thick stone wall, resting against a metal chimney with her ipad resting on her lap. Her feet were bare and she was dressed in a pair of cut off denim shorts and a basic black tank top, her raven hair pulled haphazardly into a messy bun with random tresses loose and falling against her cheeks and neck. She wasn't normally someone who would sit out in the sun for long, her fair skin being a bit too sensitive to the uv Rays, but something had possessed her to head up the roof and when she heard the first strains of the violin, she was suddenly very glad she had. Her eyes closed and her head fell back as she listened to the song, unable to help herself from singing along to the lyrics of the song she knew so well. when they opened again, she finally laid eyes on where the music was actually coming from. Not even 10 feet away stood the musician himself and Amanda couldn't bring herself to look away, riveted as she was by the music.

[A. J. Lefabre]

Whether he was unaware of or just unfazed by the fact that he wasn't alone, A.J. gave no indication.  Instead he continued bowing out the notes to the sad, heartfelt melody.  Occasionally, he would take a step after every few bars, never missing a note as he moved about the roof absently.  He stopped moving the moment the piano accompaniment was joined by drums and bass to bring the song to its dramatic climax before fading back out again as the tune came to a close.

Still not having acknowledged or, it seemed, even noticed that there was someone else there, A.J. turned and crossed over to the MP3 player and, after stripping of his shirt, he tapped through his song list for a silent moment before replacing it back in its cradle. Out of the same speakers that had just been emitting a soft piano, a steady, fast-paced and utterly unmistakable 1980's beat began to flow.  While turning away from the MP3 player again, A.J. finally made eye-contact with the brunette across the way and gave her a nod just as he raised his violin back into place and start to strike out the sharp, staccato of "Smooth Criminal" by the King of Pop himself.

[Amanda St. Croix]

When the stranger gave her a nod, Amanda returned it, adding a little smile of her own to the greeting. Her head moved the a Michael Jackson beat and she gave no indication whatsoever that she was anything but enjoying his playing. She had never heard either of those songs played with a violin before and she had to admit, she was enjoying it thoroughly. Growing up with Jagger, she had garnered a respect for all kinds of different music, despite her job dealing mainly with top 40 hits. Truth be told, sometimes her job made her want to wash her ears out with bleach.

As the music came to an end, Amanda applauded and moved closer to the edge of the roof. "I've been wondering where this music has been coming from for the last 6 months," she called out. "I'm really loving it. Truly." The live show wasn't really anything to thumb her nose at either, but that was just a perk. The music truly was incredible.

[A. J. Lefabre]

The corner of A.J.'s mouth ticked up in a half-grin and he nodded again, this time as a thank you then, setting his violin into the case that lay on the ground and tapping the MP3 to shuffle for the time being, he picked up his discarded shirt and used it to wipe the sweat from his brow and face then moving down to dab the moisture that had formed on his neck and chest.  A.J. always found himself working up a sweat when it came to "Smooth Criminal." The speed with which he found himself bowing and then just the fact that he'd lose himself in the music and start pseudo-dancing while he played never failed to leave him with a thin layer of perspiration glistening on his skin.

Tossing the soiled garment down next to the violin case, he sauntered over to the edge of his own roof and was soon standing just opposite of the brunette with only empty air of the narrow alley that ran between their buildings separating them. His cool blue-eyed gaze drifted across the soft curves of Amanda's body, making no effort to conceal that he was checking her out.  "Thank you. I'm glad you like it," he finally said, his voice a deep tenor.  

[Amanda St. Croix]

"How long have you been playing?" She asked, shifting her weight against the railing. Her eyes caught his and followed them as they travelled over her body and she shifted again, her smile widening slightly at the blatant check out. Sometimes it was nice to be reminded she wasn't over the hill at 31 just yet. Her eyes ran across the planes and ridges of his body before resting back on his face.

"I hope I'm not interrupting you," she added. "I come up here fairly often to relax." 

[A. J. Lefabre]

"Since I was five," he answered as he stepped up onto the small wall that ringed the roof of his building and sat down on the ledge, his feet dangling free in the open air of the alley that separated them.  With no concern for how easy it would be for him to fall, he sat with his hand resting in his lap and seemed to exude a natural confidence that wasn't quite cocky nor arrogant.  "So, sixteen years, give or take," he finished with a shrug.

[Amanda St. Croix]

"huh. No shit." Amanda's eyes widened slightly, impressed. He must be some sort of prodigy, or something. Since he was 5, so 16 years...give or take. Well damn, that would make him...what?..21 years old? Shit. He was a freaking baby, for gods sake!

She pulled herself up onto her ledge, although not letting her legs dangle off the edge like he did. She crossed her legs over one another as she sat there cross legged, simple because that's how she liked to sit. "the only thing I can play is the guitar, but I'm pretty basic at best. I leave the music playing up to my brother." Laughing slightly, she leaned back on her hands. "I think I'm going to like living her," she decided

[A. J. Lefabre]

A.J. watched her body move as she sat across from him.  He watched it almost as attentively as he had her face while, he was certain, she did the math and figured out how old he was.  He failed at suppressing a smirk.  Just like her previous foray into small talk, A.J. let her comment about enjoying her new home dissipate into the air unacknowledged and, instead, focused on--what he considered--the more intriguing sentences to pass her lips.

"You ever ask Jagger to teach you?" he asked, saying her brother's name even though she had not.

[Amanda St. Croix]

"How did you know Jagger was my brother?" amanda asked, surprise written on her face before a guarded wall went up. She was positive Jagger's name hadn't left her lips and really, only the most diehard fans would recognize her as his sister. He certainly didn't look like a fan boy either, but she was far too used to having people use her for her brother.

"I know we've never met, I'd have remembered you, I'm sure."

[A. J. Lefabre]

A.J.'s smirk became a wide smile and he chuckled at the shock that was etched across her face.  "Well, Miss St. Croix...Amanda.  I have this thing down in my loft.  The common-folk call it a TV.  And there's this show on it where people audition to be the next best thing since Michael Jackson.  And then there's these things called the radio and the internet. And something we call a grocery store where they sell food and these magazines with pictures of famous people in them."

He was fucking with her.  Playfully making fun of her.  Putting her on the spot.  And he loved every second of it.

[Amanda St. Croix]

Amanda paused for a moment and then broke into a little chuckle. "Touché." She replied, tilting her head to the side. She was still getting used to being on tv and the radio, people actually knowing her as Amanda St. Croix in her own right, and not just Jagger's baby sister. She truly was a very unassuming person and in many ways, still that girl from Nova Scotia, Canada.

"I have to say though, I feel at quite a disadvantage here. You obviously know my name and my brothers, but i know nothing about you." She added, her blue eyes sparkiing softly. She half expected him to evade another of her comments and it made her chuckle.

[A. J. Lefabre]

"I  imagine you do," he replied, still smiling.  She expected him to evade and evade he did.  His eyes danced over her, seeming to take in every movement and every gesture as if he were reading words from the page of a book.  All the while, he sat several feet away from her in a calm, unassuming way that, in it's own way, betrayed his casual confidence.  His hands still rested in his lap and, aside from the occasional smile or smirk and his swaying feet and the rise and fall of his stomach as he breathed, he hadn't moved. "Does it make you uncomfortable?" he asked.

[Amanda St. Croix]

"slightly." She admitted, shifting On her seat. For someone so young, he was certainly making her feel unsettled and she wasn't yet sure how she felt about it. She reached up, tingling her fingers in the mass of black hair atop her head, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye with a small smile. "It also makes me even more curious," she admitted as an after thought.

Who was her mysterious neighbour? She had planned to come up here to relax and do some reading, yet here she was having a completely one sided conversation with her gorgeous, mysterious and unsettling neighbour. She almost felt as though she was doing something wrong, the way his eyes kept watching her every move. It made no sense whatsoever to her.

[A. J. Lefabre]

"Good."

He let his response hang in the air for several lingering moments while he just sat and watched.  His eyes never shifted away from her.  Not once.  When she looked in his direction, he didn't avert his gaze as, he was sure, most men did.  Nor did he turn his head to follow her gaze when she looked away from him and seemed to be looking at something else.  Or was she just searching for something else to look at?  His money would have gone toward the latter.  He just sat, waiting for any awkwardness she might be feeling to overwhelm her and compel her to break the silence again.  Part of him wondered if she'd picked up on the fact that he was enjoying putting her on the spot